Ms. Artiste liked to be au courant
dressed fashionably, with her favorite earrings on
(an expensive gift from her current beau)
and her lush mane pulled partly up to show them off.
The young lady in the chair considered her
a friend; they’d had fun times and
she’d supported the makeup artist through
many romantic rough spots
…and at least one exposed manipulator.
The makeup artist was expertly putting
various cosmetics on the girl’s face
as practice for her skills.
the young woman usually didn’t have a
face to “put on” (as Ms. Artiste would say),
so the extras layers atop her skin felt odd
but she gave mental kudos to those who were
excellent in this profession,
and to those who did their makeup daily.
The artist looked down at her
1940’s inspired handiwork
at the usually fresh-faced girl
maybe it was just a tinge of jealousy as she
exclaimed quite loudly, delightedly
“My beautiful whore”.
[Where the @#$% did that come from?!!]
Photo courtesy of Pixabay.com